


The One Where Sam is Tony's Weakness

by JinxQuickfoot



Series: Weaknesses [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Captives, Hostage Situations, Hurt Sam Wilson, Hurt Tony Stark, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Sam Wilson, Protective Tony Stark, Rescue Missions, Rogue Avengers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, The Secret Empire, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23492437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxQuickfoot/pseuds/JinxQuickfoot
Summary: On days like these, when he found himself chained to a chair in a dimly lit cell, he felt he was owed a bit of griping about the strange turns his life had taken after becoming friends with one Steve Rogers.Strange turns such as finding himself in the same prison cell as Tony Stark.----------------------------------------------------------------------------Post-Civil War. The rogue Avengers aren't done fighting yet, but a mission gone wrong leads to one of their own being captured. Can Sam and Tony put aside their differences long enough to escape?
Relationships: Tony Stark & Sam Wilson
Series: Weaknesses [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672462
Comments: 80
Kudos: 198
Collections: Weaknesses





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stucky101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky101/gifts).



> Day 16 of the "Weaknesses" writing challenge
> 
> [Come say hi on Tumblr - I take requests!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jinxquickfoot)

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

Get in, get out. Figure out whatever it was the Secret Empire was working on, destroy it, detain those involved, and be home in time for movie night. Well, home was relative. The rogue Avengers had been constantly on the move since Steve’s final showdown with Tony in Siberia, never staying in any place longer than a week. It wasn’t exactly Sam Wilson’s dream life, but as much as he missed his modest flat back in D.C., at least he couldn’t complain about the company. Ok, he _could_ complain about the company, like when Wanda played her music too loud or Natasha finished the coffee or Steve decided that just because they were no longer officially heroes, that didn’t mean that the fight was over for them.

He usually didn’t mind that last one, but on days like these, when he found himself handcuffed to a chair in a dimly lit cell, he felt he was owed a bit of griping about the strange turns his life had taken after becoming friends with one Steve Rogers. 

Strange turns such as finding himself in the same prison cell as Tony Stark.

It had been months since Sam had seen Tony, walking away from his previous teammates on the Raft. Sam and Tony had never seen eye to eye on anything, but Steve had seemed to trust him, and that had been good enough for Sam. Until Stark had turned his back on them on that watery prison. Until Steve had finally met up the rest of them, bruised and battered, and without his shield. Until Sam had caught Steve almost obsessively checking the burner phone he always carried with him, waiting for his former friend to swallow his damn pride and make the call.

All in all, Sam really wanted to hate Tony Stark, but current circumstances were making that somewhat difficult.

They had Tony restrained the same way as Sam, wrists and ankles cuffed to a metal chair that was bolted into the floor, only undone twice a day for a closely guarded bathroom break. The differences were that there was an IV drip inserted into Tony’s arm, a mask strapped tightly over the bottom half of his face, and that Tony had clearly been here a lot longer.

Tony had barely been conscious when they had first dragged Sam into the cell, only rousing when he realised who his new cellmate was. His eyes had gone wide, and he had glared at the men marshalling Sam into the room with a venom that turned to wary concern as they were left alone in the dark space.

They left Sam’s mouth uncovered, but it hardly mattered - he was at a loss for words. When he had pictured seeing Tony again, it had always featured him putting the genius in his place, with a few choice words about friendship and loyalty, resulting in a much deserved heartfelt apology - not to him, but to Steve.

But seeing Tony like this, battered and exhausted, the fight went out of Sam. Instead he just said, “So…you come here often?”

He was rewarded with a signature Tony Stark eye roll, but even that was some small comfort - Tony was still resisting whatever the Empire was doing to him.

“We’re going to be ok,” Sam reassured him. “Steve and Nat and Wanda - they’ll know I’m missing by now. They’ll be looking. They’ll find us.”

Tony looked away, eyes on the ground.

“I know they’re probably not who you want to see right now,” Sam continued. “But beggars can’t be choosers and all that.”

After another few beats of silence, Sam added quietly, “We didn’t know, Tony. That they had you. We would have come sooner if we did. Or, you know, if you knew about them, you could have called.”

Tony glared at him, and some of Sam’s resentment flared back up. “You could have called any time in the past few months. He’s been waiting by that phone like a lovesick teenager, you know. So _he_ can apologise to _you_. Were you too stubborn to do it or could you not find five minutes in your busy life of building weapons and helping government bureaucrats?”

There was a voice in the back of his mind telling him to stop, that now was not the time or place, but he couldn’t help himself. Everything he had held inside himself for so long was spilling out.

He couldn’t even discuss it with the other rogues. Even after everything that had happened over the Accords, Steve still refused to say or hear a bad word against Tony. Natasha grew quiet and made an excuse to leave the room if he was ever mentioned, and Wanda avoided the subject entirely, because talking about Tony reminded her of Vision, and Wanda did _not_ want to be reminded of Vision. So Sam had let his anger fester, and now there was no stopping it.

“Did you even think about us for a second? Your team - the one who has had your back from the beginning. Even through all your bullshit, Stark, even through _Ultron,_ Steve still insisted on giving you the benefit of the doubt and you stabbed him in the back. You drove us out of our home and, I know this is hard to picture for someone who’s never lived anywhere but in the finest luxury money could buy, but being on the run isn’t exactly the life I pictured for myself after I got out of the military. For any of us - especially Wanda, she’s barely an adult! But you know what? I’d do all of it again. For the team. For our family. Something you don’t understand, apparently.”

Sam slumped back in the chair, letting out a long breath. It was as if a dam had burst somewhere in him, and everything he had been holding back had spilled out at once. The relief and catharsis that filled him only lasted seconds though as he remembered where he was, remembered his and Tony’s situation.

“Ok,” he breathed, his temper quelling. Tony’s eyes were fixed firmly on the floor, purposely avoiding Sam. “Sorry. I think…That needed to come out. And honestly, how many chances am I going to get to tell off Tony Stark without being interrupted by at least three bird-based insults?”

The line was greeted by an enraged stare from Tony. Sam tested his restraints, trying to find a weakness. Nothing. He sighed as he leaned back in the chair. He could wait this out. Surely his teammates wouldn’t be too far away, and the Empire didn’t seem to want him dead - yet. His heart skipped a beat as he realised that meant that they were either after information, or they were keeping him alive as bait to catch the others. And from the looks of Tony, they were happy to play the long game. 

“Why are you here?” Sam asked Tony, who rolled his eyes at him, unable to answer. “Yeah…ok. Blink twice when I get to it.”

Tony gave no acknowledgement that he would, but Sam continued anyway. “You were investigating the Secret Empire?”

Nothing.

“Money?”

Nothing.

“Weapons?”

Blink. Blink.

“Figures,” Sam muttered. “An Iron Man suit?”

Nothing.

“Missiles?”

Nothing.

“Arc reactor?”

Still nothing. Tony tugged at his cuffs in frustration. 

“It’s ok, man. Got to pass the time somehow. It’s this or I start singing. Do you like Marvin Gaye?”

Tony tugged at the cuffs harder.

“Jesus man, I’m not that bad - oh. Right.” The door to the cell had finally opened. Four figures entered; two men, two women, pushing something that smelled _amazing._ Sam’s stomach rumbled. It had been hours since they had knocked him out of the sky and dragged him here, and whatever they were wheeling in on a metal table smelled heavenly. _Poison_ , was Sam’s immediately thought. _Or truth serum. Is truth serum a thing?_

The men wheeled the metal table right in front of Sam. On it was a full steak dinner that looked more expensive than anything Sam had ever eaten in his life. His stomach rumbled again. _Shut up. It’s a trick. Don’t touch it._

The men backed up, raising guns at him while one of the women stepped in and unlocked Sam’s wrists. He thought about making a grab for her, but the guns pointed his way stopped him.

“Look,” Sam said, looking from the dinner to the woman - slightly older than the others, and clearly their leader. “I appreciate the thought, I do. But I’m actually trying to do the whole plant-based diet thing, you know, better for the planet and-”

He broke off as a piercing ringing flooded his brain. He tried to twist away from it but strong hands gripped his shoulders, holding him in place as the horrible sound continued. He saw stars before it was finally switched off. The hands released him and Sam leaned forward, gasping.

“Eat it,” the leader commanded him. “All of it.”

”Does he get to eat?” Tony was thin - far too thin. Were they starving him?

Sam looked around her at Tony, looking for answers. But the engineer’s eyes were downcast, breathing hard behind the mask.

“Is it poisoned?” Sam asked bluntly. “It’s poisoned, right?” 

“Eat it,” the leader threatened again, raising a small device - no doubt the source of the piercing ringing. Tony flinched when she did.

The leader looked from Sam to Tony.

“Don’t,” Sam warned her, but she was already moving behind Tony’s chair, placing the device right beside his ear. “Wait-“

But she had already pressed the button, and Tony was convulsing in pain in front of her. Muffled grunts came from behind the mask as he tried to lean as far away from the woman as he could, but she gripped his chin and forced him back.

“Alright! I’ll eat it!”

The leader let go of Tony and switched off the device. “Bitch,” Sam shot at her, but his eyes were on Tony. His eyes were closed now, and the moment the leader let go of his chin he slumped forward in the chair, his head hanging.

Sam reached for the knife and fork on the plate, and started to eat.

Everything on the plate was delicious, and Sam hated every mouthful, hating that they were making him eat in front of someone who was clearly starving. He shovelled it down as fast as he could, just wanting to get it over with. “There,” he said when he’d finished, slamming down the knife and fork. “Happy?”

The leader smirked at him as she stepped forward to re-fasten the restraints around Sam's wrists. “Bring it in.”

The other woman vanished as Sam’s heart started to speed up. _What now?_

When she returned, and Sam saw what she was holding, he started to curse her in words that would have Steve covering Wanda's ears.

The leader looked back at Tony. “Once again, Stark, what is about to happen is your choice. Are you going to give us the formula, or not?”

Tony finally opened his eyes, looking at her in furious defiance. The leader nodded, nonplussed, and signalled to the other woman to bring over the device she was holding.

“You’re sick,” Sam snarled at her, as the woman inserted a feeding tube into Tony’s nose and forced it down his throat.

They ignored him as he continued to shout and curse at them. He had heard of force-feeding before, knew that it was often used on protestors on hunger strikes, but he had never actually seen it done in person. It was horrible to watch Tony going through it, the genius’s eyes wide with pain and panic the entire time the woman pumped food down his throat.

After minutes that felt like hours had passed, Sam switched tactics, changing from cussing at their captors to taking directly to Tony. “Stark. Tony. Look at me.”

Tony’s pained eyes found Sam’s and even past Tony’s distress, Sam could see the resolution there. _How many times have they done this to him?_

“Focus on me,” Sam told Tony, keeping his own panic out his voice. “Just focus on me, ok? It’s going to be ok. It’s going to be fine. I promise. It’s going to be ok…”

Sam didn’t stop talking until the feeding bag was empty, repeating the same mantras over and over again until they unceremoniously ripped the tube out Tony’s nose. Sam could hear Tony gagging and choking behind the mask, but the leader rubbed his back in an almost soothing way, making sure his airways were clear before nodding at the other Empire members, who packed up the tube and Sam’s plate and prepared to leave.

“Until tomorrow, Stark. You will have the same choice.”

Then they were gone from the room, leaving Sam and Tony alone once more. 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been at least an hour, and Tony hadn’t stirred. Sam had been giving him his space, as much as he could when he was chained to a chair four feet away from him. But as the minutes ticked on and Tony continued to slump in his chair, eyes closed, Sam leaned as forward as far as he was able and said in a low voice, “Tony?”

Tony didn’t move, his eyes remaining closed. Sam was pretty sure he was still conscious, so he tried again, louder. “Tony?”

Tony’s eyes fluttered, but still didn’t open. “Look…” Sam searched for words. “I’m sorry. For what I said before. Not that I didn’t mean it, or at least…I meant some of it, but I should have at least waited until you could answer me back. I’m sorry.”

When Tony didn’t look up, Sam continued. “Steve and the others can’t be far away. And once they see…they’re going to kick their asses, Tony. _I’m_ going to kick their asses, the second I’m out of this damned chair. Starting with that bitch in charge.”

He tugged his wrists, hoping for the umpteenth time that they had made a mistake when they restrained him again. If anything, they had tightened them further.

“Ok, Stark, seriously, you’re starting to freak me out. One sign that you’re ok.”

Tony didn’t move.

“One sign that you’re ok, and I’ll shut up.”

With a huge effort, Tony lifted his head, opened his eyes, and nodded.

Sam sighed in relief. “How long have you been here?”

Tony rolled his eyes at him.

“I know, I said I’d shut up. But I need to know. They said they do this once a day, yeah? So how many days? Blink for each one.”  


_Blink. Blink. Blink._  


Sam kept counting, shivering when Tony got to seven, cursing when he got to nine, and staring at him after Tony had blinked ten times.

“Fuck…Tony…”

Tony gave a nonchalant shrug. The IV made sense now - if they were force-feeding him once a day, it must be to prevent dehydration. Which meant they had no other way to give him water. Which meant they never removed the mask.

“I’m going to kill all of them.”

Tony gave a huff as he slumped back in the chair, closing his eyes again and silence fell around the room again.

“If you really want me to shut up, I will. But if you want…I don’t know. I could just talk? Would that be better?”

Tony didn’t give any kind of reply, so Sam plunged on. “Ok. Do…do you want to know how they’re doing? Or should I not mention them? Stark!” Sam’s harsh bark made Tony’s eyes fly open again. “Don’t go into your head, ok? Stay with me. Ok, maybe talking about Team Cap isn’t the best move. Um…did I ever tell you about my military days?”

So Sam talked. About his paratrooper days, about Riley, about everything. He thought he saw Tony glance up when he told Riley’s story, as though he was actually listening and not trying to block Sam out. Sam only stopped when he was sure Tony’s closed eyes were from sleep and not disassociation, leaning back into his chair, feeling the tiredness himself. He thought of Steve and Natasha and Wanda. “Come on guys,” he muttered, as he faded off to sleep. “Where are you?”

***

Sam jerked awake from a nightmare about Riley. He thought he might have shouted his name, because Tony was watching him with concerned eyes.

“Sorry,” Sam muttered as he sat upright, wondering how long he had slept. It felt like five minutes, but he had heard of studies done in windowless rooms. They hadn’t changed the lights at all, so it could have been five minutes or eight hours and he wouldn’t know the difference. His heart sank when he realised that no rescue had come yet.

And why should it have? It wasn’t like Tony Stark could vanish unnoticed. He would have Rhodey and Vision and maybe even T’Challa out looking for him, and probably the military as well. And he had been here ten days, and they hadn’t found him.

For the first time, Sam felt his faith in his team waver.

“We could play a game?”

Tony stared at him in disbelief. 

“It works,” Sam retorted. “Keeps your mind occupied and helps pass the time. You know twenty questions? It’s when you think of an object and I _would you_ s _top fucking rolling your eyes at me!_ ”

The corners of Tony’s eyes creased in what could have been a smirk. “It’s so _annoying,"_ Sam complained. “And not just now. You do it _all the time_. We can’t all be certified geniuses, but that doesn’t make the rest of us idiots. So we’re going to play the game, or I’m going to keep talking or, hey, the Marvin Gaye is still on the table. Ok. Blink once for yes, twice for no. Is it an animal?”

They played for some time, and while it wasn’t Sam’s first choice of entertainment, it beat sitting in silence waiting for their captors to return.

Which they did.

In the same manner as before, they placed a steak dinner in front of Sam, just to be crueller to Tony, to make Sam an accomplice in his torture. He couldn’t imagine that the sludge they forced down Tony’s throat was taking the sting of hunger away. Sam glared at the lead captor as she came to undo his wrists. She must have caught something in Sam’s eyes, because she nodded to one of the men, who put his gun firmly in Tony’s shoulder.

“Whatever you’re thinking of trying, don’t,” she warned him. Sam grit his teeth but didn’t make a grab for the woman when his wrists were free as he had planned. She shoved the knife and fork towards him. “Eat.”

“You want a formula from Stark, yeah? Some fancy evil weapon?”

She stared Sam down, considering him. “He’s not going to give it to you,” Sam continued.“No matter what you do to him.”

“We’ll see.”

“Trust me,” Sam retorted. “I know Stark. At least well enough to know he doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. Even when he should.”

The woman considered Sam, before she laid down the knife and fork and restrained him to the chair again. _That’s probably not good._

The leader took the gun from the man behind Tony’s chair, taking her colleague’s place. She leaned over Tony, one arm caressing his chest as she changed the gun’s position from his shoulder to the side of his head. “If what you say is true, then I don’t have much use for him, do I?”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. She was bluffing - she had to be. “I think a charming girl such as yourself can think of at least one use for Tony Stark that isn’t him building you weapons,” Sam shot back at her.

The leader considered, idly tapping her fingers on Tony’s chest, right over where the arc reactor used to be. An idea seemed to occur to her, because her face lit up with childlike glee. “What about a trade?” she asked innocently.

Sam eyed her, not wanting to play into whatever game this was.

“You’re one of Steve Rogers’s, yes? One of his little rogues?”

Sam saw Tony stiffen under her grip, and she responded by digging his fingernails into his chest. “I’d hope they’d come to rescue you by now, but they’re taking their sweet time, aren’t they? So  how about this; tell me where Steve Rogers is, and I’ll take the mask off. I’ll even skip the force-feed today, and you and Stark can share this lovely steak dinner.”

_Shit._

Sam flicked his eyes back to Tony. He could lie. He could just give her a location - _any_ location. He had almost decided to do it, when Tony made eye contact with him.

_Blink. Blink._

Two blinks. A no.

“Fuck,” Sam breathed.

“Is that a no, Wilson? Is Rogers too close to home? I’d ask for the others but I suppose they’re all grouped together, aren’t they? Except…” There was a wicked gleam in her eyes as she said, “How about Barnes?”

She must have seen Sam’s shocked look because she smirked at him. “Oh yes, I know all about Hydra’s little pet. Tell me where Rogers has stashed him, and I won’t hurt Stark.”

Tony kept his eyes on Sam. _Blink. Blink._

“Yeah,” Sam muttered. “That’s…that’s a no.”

The leader sighed dramatically as she forced her fingers deeper into Tony’s chest. Sam could recognise the shape she was making now, her fingernails spread the width and height of an arc reactor. She was making twisting motions, miming pulling it out of Tony’s sternum.

“Are you sure? Last chance.”

Sam knew she was toying with him. Knew that he couldn’t really change the outcome, that she was probably going to hurt Tony anyway. It didn’t make any easier to say.

“I’m sure. No.’

Tony nodded at him, just slightly, but it was enough that the Empire leader caught it. She moved the hand on his chest into his hair, keeping his head still as she pressed the gun back into his shoulder. One of the men came forward and undid the restraints around Sam’s wrists.

“Steak’s getting cold.”

The same as yesterday, Sam ate as fast as he could before he was restrained again, and the younger woman stepped forward to prepare the feeding tube.

The leader approached Sam as the other woman was inserting the tube up Tony’s nose. “A location,” she said again, leaning down so she was an inch from Sam’s face. “One little word. Doesn’t even have to specific. I’ll take a city, a state, a province.”

When Sam looked at the floor, trying to keep his temper in check, the leader grabbed his chin and forced his head upright. She moved behind his chair so she was right behind him, both hands keeping his head up so he had no choice to watch as the force-feeding began.

“You could stop this,” she whispered in his ear. “Just one location.”

Sam couldn’t just watch - he couldn’t. “Ok,” he said, even as Tony’s eyes flipped over to him, the engineer shaking his head the best he could with the tube down his throat. “I know where Rogers is.”

The leader almost purred in his ear as she waited for the answer. “He’s on his way to kick your ass,” Sam said before he slammed his head backwards into the leader’s nose.

There was a satisfying _crunch_ as something warm and wet splashed against his neck. He heard a cry of outrage and pain even as something hard cracked against the back of his head, making him see stars. When they cleared, he saw the older woman’s face in his, blood pouring from a broken nose. “Fine,” she spat, her voice thick. “We’re done for the day.”

The younger woman went to take the tube out of Tony’s throat, but she stopped with a wave of her leader’s hand. The leader smirked down at Sam as she said, “Leave it in.”

Then she was leaving the room, taking her followers with him.

“Wait!” Sam called after her. “You can’t - wait!”

But they had already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter gets somewhat gross. I wasn’t sure how to tag or do a content warning for it - if you have any thoughts, please let me know.

“Tony!”

Sam had pulled on the cuffs binding him to the chair until his felt skin break. He forced himself to stop before he did more damage, and turned his focus to Tony instead, _who wasn’t breathing._

“Tony,” Sam said again, this time making his tone calm. “I know you feel like you can’t breathe right now, but we’re going to be rational, ok? They need you, right? Hey. _Look at me_.”

Tony’s panicked eyes rolled over to meet Sam’s, and Sam kept himself still, painting a picture of reason. “You can breathe,” Sam assured him. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but they wouldn’t let you die, would they? Not when they need the…formula, or whatever. You still have one nostril free. _You can breathe.”_

And maybe he could, but he wasn’t. Sam started to take deep breaths, making a show of it. “Let’s breathe together. Keep your eyes on me.”

Sam’s own heart was going a million miles a minute, but he wasn’t going to let that show. Panic attacks could be serious enough to put people in the hospital _without_ their airways being restricted. He needed to stop this one in its tracks, and fast. “Ok. We’re going to inhale now. You have one nostril free, and air is going to go through that, ok? Ready? Ok. Inhale…one, two, three, four. Exhale…one, two, three, four.”

Tony was trying - Sam could see he was trying. Tony’s eyes slipped closed, his previously scarlet face starting to drain all color instead.

“Hey!” Sam jerked against the cuffs again, ignoring the pain, making a loud enough sound to get Tony’s attention back on him. “I know this terrifying, but I’m _here_ , alright? I’m here and I’m going to get you through this. You’re not alone. So let’s breathe together, ok? Inhale…one, two, three, four.”

And, shakily but surely, Tony took a breath.

“Good,” Sam assured him. “That’s really good. Now, exhale. One, two…”

It was hard going, every breath Tony drew hampered by the tube and the mask, but Sam didn’t let up, talking him down from the panic attack until his breathing was at least regular, if still raw and shaky.

It wasn’t over though. Tony was still restricted from taking full breaths, and every one he managed to take was a trial. Sam’s throat became dry and hoarse, but he didn’t stop talking, didn’t stop encouraging, whether it was calling out the counts of four to remind Tony that he could breathe, or delving into assurances that Steve and the team couldn’t be far away, or just repeating “I’m here, it’s ok, you’re not alone, I’m here.”

Sam didn’t know how much time passed until Tony raised his chin from his chest, looking exhausted, his eyes red and bloodshot, and gave Sam a tired nod.

Sam let out a long breath of his own, slumping back in the chair. Tony’s breaths were still rough, but they were even. Sam swallowed, wincing, trying to work saliva back into his mouth, realising for the first time the full extent of the damage he had done to his wrists by pulling on the cuffs. If they got infected, he was in some serious trouble.

_Come on, Steve. What, are you napping? A rescue right now would be very appreciated._

“Are you ok?” Sam asked finally. “Relatively speaking.”

Tony blinked at him, once. _Yes._

Sam tried to shift into a position that took some of the pain away from his cut wrists. Tony seemed to notice them for the first time, because his eyes grew wider. Sam noted what he was looking at. “Yeah. That wasn’t my smartest move.”

He eyed Tony’s wrists, noting that they were covered with thick bandages under the cuffs. Sam hoped their captors would provide the same care for him, but he doubted it. He’d refused to tell them where Steve or Bucky was and, other than being bait for the rogue Avengers, he couldn’t see what other use they’d have for him. He tried not to groan. Being the expendable captive was the _worst._

His eyes went back to Tony, who had been here for days, knowing that he wasn’t expendable at all, that he was needed, and would therefore be kept here, alive, until he did what their kidnappers wanted. _Ok, maybe not quite the worst._

“They need you,” Sam reasoned. “They’ll come back and take that out, ok? And I’ll…” He swallowed, thinking back to why they had left the tube in in the first place. “And I’ll behave, ok?” Tony shook his head at that, and Sam quickly amended, “I’m not going to tell them where Steve or the others are, or anything like that. But I’ll keep the one-liners to myself from now on, alright? I won’t give them any more reason to go after you, if I can avoid it.”

Tony stared at him, brow creased, like he was looking at an equation he couldn’t solve.

“I wouldn’t have gone after her like that if I’d know they’d do this, ok?” He sighed, shifting, unable to find a comfortable position, then added. “Felt good though.”

Tony gave a sound that might have been a grunt of laughter, and Sam managed a weak smile. “God I hope she gets a black eye. They take forever to heal. Let her think about me every time she looks in a mirror. And when I get out of this chair, I’m going to do worse.”

Tony was back to staring at the ceiling, his breath still rising and falling a little rapidly for Sam’s taste. “I can talk more, if you want? Try and distract you?”

Sam half-expected Tony to brush him off, but instead the engineer nodded emphatically, encouraging Sam to go on. “Ok. Um, I think I might be out of stories about my military days. And stories about rogues still off the table?” He took Tony’s lack of response as a yes _._ “Ok, um…what about pre-Accords?” He thought back to, what he had to admit, were some of the best months of his life. Before Germany.

A memory clicked into place. “Ok. I have one. Do you remember when that doomsday guy had that floating lair with the sky beam? Villains really like their sky beams, hey? What’s up with that?” Sam launched into the story, making it longer than it needed to be. It had a been a couple of months into his time as an official Avenger, and while they had had plenty of adventures during that period, this was one he could really get into with Tony. Because of the nature of the floating lair, only the Avengers with flight capabilities had been sent after it, meaning that Sam had gone on this mission with Rhodey and Vision.

“I liked them,” he added, when he couldn’t find a way to continue the story anymore, bringing it to a conclusion. “Vision took a while for me to, um, adapt to, but I liked him. Rhodey too.” Pre-Accords, Sam and Rhodey had gotten on like a house on fire, bonding over their military experience and larger-than-life best friends, both of whom had been responsible for changes in their lives neither Falcon nor War Machine could have ever seen coming.

After Sam paused, catching his breath, he asked, quietly, “Rhodey. Is he ok? After Germany?”

Tony eyed him warily, but blinked once for yes, looking like he wanted to say more. Sam didn’t really know what to do with that, but was spared from thinking about something else to talk about when the cell door banged open once more, their four kidnappers reentering the room.

Sam bit back on a scathing insult, remembering his promise to Tony to not piss them off any more than necessary. He settled for the satisfaction of the leader’s crumpled nose, the beginnings of bruises creeping up around her eyes.

The leader signalled to the other woman and she approached Tony, grabbing the tube and pulling it roughly out through his nose. Sam fought not to gag as the length of tube was none too gently extracted, keeping his eyes locked on Tony instead. _You’re not alone. I’m here._

This time, there was no steak dinner, which Sam was grateful for, hating that they were making him complicit in Tony’s torture.

“Are you going to give us the formula?” the leader asked Tony. Tony broke eye contact with Sam to glare at her, and shook his head.

She looked unbothered as she said, “I have to say, Stark, I’m disappointed. I really wanted to be the one to break you. But I don’t think Rogers is going to leave one of his little sidekicks here for any longer than he can help it, and I’d like to have that extra special something waiting for him when he gets here.”

She reached for Tony, making him flinch away from her. She tutted at him. “Do want the mask off or not?”

Tony grew still, eyeing her warily, but all she did was slide her hand around the back of his head and undo the mask.

As glad as Sam was to see the damned thing finally get removed, it revealed that the contraption was so much worse than he had previously thought. Attached to the leather mask was some kind of large, elastic ball that Tony choked on as the leader extracted it from between his teeth, revealing the mass of bruising around his jaw from where the mask had cut into his skin. Sam swore under his breath, fighting to keep his mouth shut for the fear that any of the insults he was desperate to hurl at the kidnappers would make things worse for Tony.

“We’re going to try something new.” The leader held the mask with distaste as Tony heaved oxygen into his lungs, working his bruised jaw. “And if it doesn’t work, we can go back to this method. But while we have an extra guest here…”

Sam’s heart sank. He could see where this was going even before the leader approached him, as he saw Tony cotton on as well, his head jerking up as the leader made her way over to Sam. Being bait for Steve was bad enough; he really didn’t want to play the role of Tony’s leverage as well. 

“Bring it here.”

The other Empire members brought the feeding tube over to Sam. Tony’s breaths were speeding up now, as he tried to work saliva back into his mouth to speak.

The leader smirked at Tony as she brought the mask in front of Sam’s face, not even bothering to wipe it off, and Sam lost the battle with keeping his thoughts to himself. “No,” he refused. “No way. That thing has been in Stark’s mouth for almost two weeks, don’t you _dare_ -”

But she was already forcing the slimy ball in between Sam’s teeth. He fought back, trying to dodge her but the two men appeared either side of him, one securing his head while the other forced his jaw open, and the gag went in before he felt the clasp being tightly fastened at the back of his head.

The _taste._ Sam fought the need to hurl, forcing down bile that he couldn’t eject, eyes watering. The next thing he noted was the discomfort - the ball was forcing his jaw open and pressing his tongue down in an unnatural angle, touching the back of his throat when he tried to speak and initiating his gag reflex and, god, he wanted to throw up so bad. From the taste in his mouth, he could tell that was a battle Tony had lost at least once. Sam forced the disgust of that thought away because while he was sure the Empire hadn’t been about to let Tony choke to death on his own vomit, he wasn’t sure they’d extend him the same courtesy.

When he saw the tube being prepared, he felt the first stab of panic for himself since his capture. Force-feeding was bad enough, but with the gag nearly pressing against the back of his throat, he wouldn’t be able to breathe until they’d finished.

Functional waterboarding. Making sure your prisoner didn’t starve to death while simultaneously torturing them. And they had been at it with Tony for days.

Sam tried to jerk his head out of the way on instinct when the tube was brought near his nose but the two men held him in place, pausing just before they inserted it. The leader looped her arm around Sam’s shoulders, her fingernails digging through his shirt as she addressed Tony.

“Ok, Stark. Let’s try this again, shall we? Are you going to give me the formula for Extremis?”

Sam couldn’t move his head, but he found Tony’s eyes, and blinked at him twice. _No._

“Sure?” the leader pushed when Tony hesitated. “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

Tony’s eyes were darting to the leader and back to Sam, looking for options. Sam blinked twice at Tony again, trying to school what Tony could see of his face into something reassuring. The leader’s fingernails bit harder into Sam’s shoulders as she tutted in disproval.

“Ok. Put it in.”

Sam fought against the urge to struggle as the men prepared to insert the tube. He knew that force-feeding could go terribly wrong even when there wasn’t something blocking the victim’s mouth, and the last thing he needed was food ending up in his lungs.

“Wait.”

The room went still. Tony’s voice was hoarse from disuse, but he cleared his throat and raised his head, glaring at her. “Wait,” he said again, clearer than the first time. “Don’t.”

The leader’s hands released Sam’s shoulders and he felt a temporary relief, until her hands slipped around his chest in a mock embrace instead. “Well, looks like you’re going to be useful for more than bait after all.”

Sam ignored her, blinking rapidly at Tony, trying to tell him not to give in. The term Extremis wasn’t familiar to him, but if Tony had invented it, and the Empire wanted it, it had to mean one thing. A weapon. A powerful one. And they couldn’t have it, no matter what they did him.

“You’ll give us the formula?”

Tony glanced at Sam, his expression set - a decision made. “If you let Wilson go, I’ll give it to you.”

The leader hummed, pulling Sam a little closer against her. “Counteroffer. Give me the formula, he stays alive and unharmed. But I’m not letting him go. I need to make sure the formula works, after all.”

Tony hesitated, contemplating her words, before he said, “Done.”

The leader released Sam, standing up straight. “There? That wasn’t so hard, was it? You know we could have done this days ago, spared us both a lot of trouble.”

The men stepped back from Sam, freeing him enough to shake his head at Tony, making muffled sounds of protest behind the mask, trying to make him change his mind. Tony ignored him, turning his attention to the tablet the other woman produced as one of the men uncuffed Tony’s hands. On cue, Sam felt the press of a gun in his shoulder. 

“Don’t try anything,” the leader warned. “The formula. Now.”

Tony started typing. Sam wasn’t sure how much time passed by the time he had finished, but eventually Tony handed the tablet back to the Empire leader. She gave it a cursory glance, before beaming at him. “See how much easier things are when you play along?”

Tony didn’t respond, his head hitting his chest as he was re-cuffed to the chair. The IV was removed from his arm and then their captors were headed for the door.

“Wait!” Tony called after them, glancing at Sam.

The leader paused, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I gave you what you wanted. Take the mask off.”

_Yes, please, take it off._ Sam’s jaw was already aching, and any sound or sudden move made the ball brush against the back of this throat, threatening to make him throw up.

The leader looked from Tony to Sam, considering. Five awful seconds passed before she spoke.

“No,” she said simply, before slamming the door of the cell and locking it behind her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who prompted me to continue this fic - I've been working on other on other stories in this series so thank you for your patience!
> 
> One of those stories turned out "The One Where Peter is Bucky's Weakness" and it was interesting coming back to this one and realising how many of the ideas for that story originated in this one.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m sorry.”

It was the first time Tony had spoken since the Secret Empire had left him and Sam alone in the cell again. Sam had thought the panic from having his airways threatened would lessen as he got used to the obstruction in his mouth. Instead, it had the opposite effect, increasing as the discomfort did. If he lost focus, he felt the ball begin to brush the back of his throat, threatening to trigger his gag reflex. The lingering tastes weren’t helping.

How had Tony _slept_ with this thing on?

Tony was working his bruised jaw, wincing as it clicked every time he opened his mouth. “Jesus, do I have TMJ now? That’s great, just peachy, let’s add it to the list.” He strained in his chair as though for looking for weaknesses in the cuffs, but after a minute of trying he slumped back, looking over at Sam.

“It helps if you slacken your jaw,” Tony offered. “And if you arch your tongue. Like this.” He opened his mouth to demonstrate, and Sam copied him. It relieved the pressure from the gag, just a little. A little went a long way though, and Sam gave Tony a nod of thanks.

“Yeah, you don’t want to thank me,” Tony muttered. A minute passed, and then he added, “I guess I should thank you, though. For the breathing, and everything. Better than doing it on my own.”

Sam shrugged at him, wanting to say more. This not being able to talk back thing definitively sucked.

“Rogers will be looking for you.”

That thought was becoming less assuring by the minute. Sam desperately wanted to ask what weapon Tony had just handed over to the Empire to use on Steve when he got here. _If_ he got here. At this point, Sam wasn’t even sure if wanted that rescue attempt to happen.

A cramp in his jaw suddenly made the ball sink deeper into his mouth, bringing up bile he was forced to swallow. Ok, maybe, (selfishly), he did still want that rescue to happen. 

Tony hadn’t finished. “But I have a plan to get us out before he does.”

Sam’s head went up at that, fixing Tony with a hopeful look.

“Don’t,” Tony said quietly, not meeting Sam’s eyes. “It’s not going to be fun for you. But I couldn’t see another way out.”

Sam grunted in frustration when Tony didn’t elaborate further. The billionaire shot him an apologetic look. “It has a better chance of working if you don’t know what it is. If it helps…” He hesitated, then went on. “If we go with this plan, Steve stays out of this whole mess.”

Tony shifted in his chair, the apologetic expression turning into something harder. “Believe it or not, I don’t want him, or you, or the others to get hurt. Or be arrested. Or forced out of your home. Well,” he amended. “You weren’t exactly forced, were you? You could have stayed.”

_By signing away our freedom. By working for a government with its own agendas and priorities. By letting Bucky get locked away in some padded cell for good, or worse._

“Did he tell you?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. _Tell me what?_

“Did Steve tell you? About Siberia. About Barnes.”

Sam nodded, cautious at the turn of conversation.

“Really?” Tony fixed him with a look. “All of it?”

Steve had. Every detail. Every blow from the fight. Every frame of Zemo’s video. Sam nodded.

When Tony spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper. “Even my parents?”

Sam hesitated before he confirmed that too.

“Interesting,” Tony said finally, his voice back to something like normal. “I wasn’t sure, you see, after you said I stabbed Steve in the back. Just a bit confused there, you know, because the way I remember it, it was the other way around. _”_

Tony gave the restraints a fruitless yank. The movement must have opened up one of the cuts on his wrist, because red started to seep through the bandage. Tony didn’t even notice. “And as for always giving me the benefit of the doubt? Steve _never_ gave me the benefit of the doubt. We never really fought together, you and me, outside of Ultron, so I guess you didn’t know what our dynamic was. Or maybe you did, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Steve and I butted heads on everything, because he was satisfied punching the bad guys in the face whenever they popped up like Avenging was a game of whack-a-mole. And that approach? It’s not enough. One of us had to think about the next threat that was coming. And, yeah, you know what? Ultron, Sokovia - that’s my bad. Not my best work. But at least my head wasn’t up my own ass thinking that the team was going to be enough for when it comes.”

Sam made a questioning noise behind the mask, trying to ignore his own rage, trying to remind himself that Tony had been kept captured and tortured for nearly two weeks, and now wasn’t the time to get at each other’s throats.

“The endgame,” Tony finished. “It’s coming. And we need to be together when it does. That’s why I signed the Accords. That’s what Rogers couldn’t understand - no, _wouldn’t_ understand, because he’s never listened to me, not once. You were right about one thing though, Wilson -I don’t know a lot about family. Never really had one, not until I started playing landlord to a bunch of superheroes. But I’m pretty sure when times get tough, family is meant to stay together, not run off with _one person_ who also happened to be a _murderer._ And don’t give me the brainwashing talk, because…because I _know_ , ok? I know it wasn’t his fault. But it was still him. He still killed them. And Steve…Steve didn’t even care.”

Tony slumped back in the chair, the anger gone, exhaustion catching up with him again. “Sorry,” he deadpanned. “That needed to come out.”

Sam paused for a second. Then he gave Tony the biggest eye roll he could manage.

Tony gave a huff of laughter. “Cool. So we’re even now. Ok?”

Sam hesitated before nodding, wanting to assure Tony that yes, they were ok, they kind of had to be to get through this, but not wanting to confirm what Tony had said. Because Steve _did_ care. And if Tony had picked up the damn burner phone he would know that, and maybe they wouldn’t be here.

“I am sorry though,” Tony said, after a long beat. Sam assumed he meant about Steve, but then he added, “The formula I gave them. It wasn’t the correct one.”

A wave of relief surged through Sam. He tried to let it show on his face, to let Tony know that that was _good,_ that Sam wasn’t worth the Empire getting their hands on one of Tony’s weapons, not worth them having it ready for when Steve, Natasha and Wanda came for him. Tony seemed to note what Sam was feeling, because he added, “It’s close -  close enough to keep them busy for at least a couple days. But it’s going to fail, and then they’re going to get their evil panties in a twist all over again. And they’re going to take it out on you.”

Sam shook his head at him, trying to signal that that was ok, he was fine with that. Ok, he wasn’t _fine_ with it, but if it was up to him, he knew what he would choose.

“I’ll try to stop them if I can,” Tony promised. “Or get them to do it to me instead.”

Sam shook his head again, glancing down to indicate himself. Tony had been here for longer - if they were going to hurt anyone it should be Sam, while he was still the stronger of the two.

Tony huffed at him. “Jesus, you and Rogers really have that self-sacrifice thing down, don’t you? Is that why you bonded so fast?” A note of bitterness had crept into Tony’s voice. “Come on,” Tony went on. “You met while you were out _jogging._ Fast friends, like _that.”_ Tony snapped his fingers, the cuffs around his wrists making it an effort.

The next words took Sam off guard. “I was always a little jealous of that.” Tony was looking off to the side, no longer Sam’s way. “Rogers and I didn’t exactly get off to the best start. And, ok, most of that was on me, but then New York happened, and then I set up the rooms at the Tower, and I thought…”

Tony checked himself. “Let’s just say that Cap and I always had our differences, but hey, I was a little cut when the new guy made it into the circle of trust and not me, alright? And for the record…” Tony paused, as though considering how to phrase his next words. “I would have helped,” he settled on. “Find Barnes, I mean. Even if you had told me what he did. Not at first, probably, but if Steve had been honest with me, and just _told_ me…I would have helped.”  


At that moment it didn’t matter that Sam couldn’t speak; he had no idea what to do say. 

Tony shook himself. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Maybe because you’re the first person I’ve had since Anders to talk to in…is it twelve days now? Or thirteen. Shit, I was so careful keeping count.”

Sam grunted best he could when Tony mentioned Anders, and Tony seemed to understand because he added, “Brooke Anders. She’s the one in the charge, the one Rhodey and I was chasing. Apparently, she’s been chasing us back, going after Extremis. Long story on that, by the way, but they’re after it because…let’s call it a super-healing drug for now, ok?”

Sam frowned, wanting to know more, but Tony went back to discussing their captors. “Anders is the only one whose name I’ve been able to get so far, although I think she called the other woman Cutler at some point. The men I’ve been calling Abbott and Costello which, not my most original, but it hasn’t been a fun couple of weeks, so you know…give me a break, ok?”

The last few words full of exhaustion and defeat. Tony was silent for several moments before he spoke again. “And, um, Rhodey is ok. As ok as he could be, anyway. Thank you for asking.” Tony let out a long breath, tapping his toes on the cell floor. “And thank you for before. For not letting me go in my head. Let’s just say it hasn’t exactly been candy land in there of late. Do you want me to do the same for you?” He grinned when Sam nodded. “Bet you never thought you’d see the day where you wanted me to keep talking, right Goose?”

Tony launched into a story about him and Rhodey during one of their spring breaks at MIT.Sam had heard the story before, from Rhodey’s point of view, but it seemed the Colonel had left out a few of the more colorful details that Tony was more than happy to fill in.

On the third day, the screaming started.

Their captors had only returned during that time to feed Sam and let him out of the chair to use the bathroom. He had actually been somewhat relieved the first time they had come back, when he realised that they finally intended to take the mask off his mouth. He had been preparing for when they did, organizing everything he wanted to say to Tony: to tell him to not give the Empire the Extremis formula no matter what, to tell him that Steve _did_ care, that neither of them had exactly made good decisions in Siberia, and Steve was willing to make amends if Tony was.

Sam didn’t get the chance.

Abbott and Costello had hauled Tony away, untying him from the chair and shoving him towards the door under the express instruction to behave, or Sam would be feeling the consequences. Tony hadn’t fought back.

At least the mask was gone. Whatever the Empire was doing, they still needed Tony’s help. Therefore Sam was still useful as leverage, and they didn’t need said leverage choking to death any time soon. The mask stayed off, and Sam was careful not to backtalk, to avoid any triggers that would mean it got put back on. How Tony had survived ten days in the thing Sam didn’t want to know.

Sam had flinched when the screaming had started, days after they had taken Tony away; a male voice in agony echoing even though the thick walls of his cell. After a few moments though, he had concluded that it wasn’t Tony. Another bone-chilling thought occurred to him, and he forced himself to listen closer but, no, it didn’t sound like Steve either. It went on for hours until it suddenly stopped, cut off as though someone had flipped a switch.

Not fifteen minutes later, the cell door was bursting open and Sam barely had time to acknowledge Tony, who was hanging between Abbott and the woman he thought was Cutler, before a horribly familiar ball was being shoved between Sam’s teeth and a strap was being tightened around the back of his head. He was vaguely away of Tony shouting, telling them to stop, but Sam couldn’t focus on anything but the tube that was being forced up his nose and down his throat.

It was so much worse than he had thought. He choked and gagged the entire time the foul-tasting sludge was being forced into his stomach, even as the paratrooper’s voice in his head warned him to stay as still as possible, to reduce the chances of food ending up in his lungs.

It was getting close to a minute now. Sam fought for breath and couldn’t find one. The paratrooper’s logic and the panic were in battle, and the panic was winning.

“Wilson. Sam. I’m still here, look at me. _Sam!”_

Sam’s eyes snapped around to where Tony was twisted between the two men holding him, and locked eyes with him. “Good,” Tony assured him. “Stay with me, ok? It’ll be over soon, they need you.” He shot a dark look at Anders, who was standing between him and Sam. “Because they know I’m not going to give them a thing if they hurt you, ok?”

He couldn’t breathe, he _couldn’t_ -

“I’m here, ok?”

Then the tube was gone, and Sam was hauling in breaths through his nose, fighting the urge to vomit. There were hands at his throat and back, and he fought them until he realised Anders was making sure he wasn’t choking, and reluctantly stilled as she cupped his chin, checking he could breathe.

“Bitch,” Tony shot at her, mirroring Sam’s thoughts exactly.

“I didn’t have to do this,” Anders said, fake regret in the words. “If you had just given me the correct formula, Stark. Now, are you going to give it to me this time like a good boy? Or are we going to have a repeat performance?” Sam stiffened as a second feeding bag appeared in his vision. They’d never done it to Tony twice in a row - hadn’t dared risk it. Sam could feel his stomach roiling, wanting to regurgitate everything that had just been forced into it. He didn’t think he could take a second round.

“Alright.” Everyone turned to look at Tony, who had given up the fight, staring with Sam with concern instead. “I’ll give you the correct formula. Just leave him alone.”

“No more tricks,” Anders warned him. “And just to make sure…” Her grip on Sam’s jaw tightened as she tilted him back towards her, forcing him to look at her instead. “Our guest here is going to be your next test subject.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you. Yes you. I hope something good happened to you today. Because you’re a great person, and you deserve great things.

Anders’s ultimatum to Tony was clear. In three days time, a bullet was going through Sam’s heart. Whether or not Extremis was going save him from that bullet was up to Tony.

While Sam couldn’t see how that made Extremis a weapon, he did see its uses on a battlefield. Even Steve’s healing factor couldn’t save him from a fatally placed bullet. Soldiers that could take injury without fear of death would be unstoppable.

Ah. Right. There was the weapon.

When they first led him out of the cell, Sam immediately began looking for ways to make a break for it. Tony’s plan or not, if he was seeing an opening that could get them both out, he was taking it.

They didn’t give him one. Abbot and Castello - whom he had regretfully learned were called the very boring names of Jones and Michaels - were by his side, weapons drawn, every time he was moved. And when he wasn’t moving, he was strapped to an examination table while Empire scientists bustled around him under Tony’s instruction.

Despite the guns on him and Sam at every moment, Tony commanded the lab like he was his, quick to demand what he needed, and getting it. Sam watched his every move, waiting for a signal that this so-called escape plan was about to take place. He would have asked, but the Empire never left him and Tony alone together, and neither of them dared to communicate outside of the occasional medical question and answer.

On the third day, Sam was tired of waiting for Tony to make a move. They let him up from the table, too early for the scheduled bathroom break, and made to move him into a room he hadn’t seen before. One look at what was waiting for him, and he was moving.

His elbow connected with Jones’s jaw, his foot with Michaels’s insole, but that was as far as he got before a nasty electrical shock ran him through from head to toe, and he slumped in the two men’s grip as they hauled him forward.

The contraption in the centre of the room reminded him of a chair on a theme park ride, the way they stood him up and hooked the metal harness over his chest, locking it down before they secured his ankles and wrists in place. He tugged at them once, realised it was hopeless, and slumped back. “Man, fuck this place.”

A hand gentler than the rest touched on his forearm, Tony looking up at him with a fixed determination. “I’m not going to lie to you,” Tony said bluntly. “This is going to be hell.”

“No, don’t sugarcoat it, tell me the real truth.”

Tony’s grip tightened as he began to set up various electrodes and wires. Sam decided it was probably better not to look at what Tony was doing, and stared straight ahead instead.

“There’s going to be a point where it’s unbearable,” Tony continued. "Where you’re going to want to give in.”

“Give in to what?”

“To exploding.”

Ok, Sam was officially _done._ “The last guy _exploded?_ ” He recalled the anguished screams from a few days ago, their abrupt cut-off. It hadn’t been a stretch to expect that he was heading for the same fate, but he had been holding out for rescue or Tony’s plan or for a hole in the Empire’s security before they got to that point. No dice. Here they were.

“I gave them the incorrect formula before,” Tony reminded him. His hand had become a vice now, willing Sam to understand. “This time it’s the right one, ok? I’ve done everything I can - ball’s in your court now. So when the pain comes, that’s your body trying to reject Extremis. You need to convince yourself to -”

“To not explode,” Sam finished. “Great. You know, I’m suddenly glad we didn’t go on more missions together.”

He had meant it as a joke, trying to quell some of the panic he was feeling with humor, but Tony seemed to take it to heart because he grimaced as he released Sam’s arm. “Yeah, that was probably for the best.”

“Enough.” Anders stepped between them, running her hands over Sam’s arms, and he fought not to squirm under her touch. “Begin.”

“Don’t even get a last meal, huh? Or, I don’t know, last words or a phone call or -”

That was as far as he got before the pain started.

Sam knew he had a high pain tolerance. He wasn’t reckless about it, the way Steve could be, knowing when to call it a day and when to push through. He had seen plenty of gruesome injuries during his time as a paratrooper, and whenever things were getting rough in the field, he’d remind himself that he had seen others go through and survive worse.

He couldn’t say the same for Extremis.

His body was melting. That was the only way he could describe it, like there was molten lava in his veins instead of blood, cooking him from the inside out. He could feel things inside him shifting that definitely shouldn’t be moving, bones or organs or muscles or all of the above twisting against one another.

He knew he was screaming, even if he couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears. The rush of blood…and a voice.

“Sam, hey, I’m right here.”

Sam tried to lock onto that voice, to put his focus on the calm, soft tone and not the pain that was threatening to rip him apart. Oh god, he was going to explode. He could feel it building. It was too much, the heat, the pressure - 

“Sam, hey. Pay attention. I know this hurts. But you gotta push through it.”

_Push through it?_ He could barely endure it. He just wanted it to end, to end now -

“ _Hey._ Come on, you’re stronger than this. You’re Falcon. You’re an Avenger. Part of the team. I know you want to see them again, yeah?”

He did. But not as much as he wanted the pain to stop.

“Steve. Natasha. Wanda. They’re not going to want to see you splattered across this room, ok? So hold it together - for them.”

Ok, yes, better. He could do it for them.He could do it for…for…

He grasped for their names, and found nothing. There was just pain.

“Sam, come on, _fight it._ ”

He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t strong enough.

The calm voice he could no longer connect to a face was still talking, but no longer calm, shouting, something about backing off and leaving them alone and that this was going to work.

“You’re almost there, ok? Make or break.”

Break. Definitely break.

The voice fumbled, then ploughed on with a new determination. “And, look, if you give in, you give in. But know that if you do…if you do, I’m standing right next to you. I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. So if you give into this thing, you’re going to take me out with you.”

No. No, he couldn’t fight it. He begged the voice to just move, to save himself, to let Sam give in and let the pain stop.

“Come on, buddy, I know you got this. Neither of us has to die today. You were a paratrooper, yeah? It was your job to save people. So push through this, save both our asses, ok?”

He knew that voice. He didn’t want that voice to die.

“I’m here, I’m with you. You’re not alone.”

Just as the pain reached breaking point, Sam threw a leash on it and reeled it in.

He was still burning, still melting, could feel his insides shifting, but he was on top of it now. He focussed on his paratrooper training, putting focus into his breath, pulling air into his burning lungs.

“That’s it, buddy. Breathe through it. You got this. I’m here.”

It took an eternity before the pain began to recede. Soon Sam was able to open his eyes, to find a familiar face in front of his, still talking him through.

“Nearly there. You’re doing great. Just a bit longer, alright?”

Soon the burning was tolerable then, at last, it started to die down into an ongoing ache. His bones seemed to be reforming, shifting back into place. They felt…different. Like he was made of cooling metal.

Then there was a hand on his arm and he tried to jerk away, not wanting to burn whoever was touching him, but the restraints held him fast.

“It’s ok,” Tony assured him. “It’s over - you’re not going to burn me.”

Tony’s hands were ghosting over him now as Sam tried to work saliva back into his mouth. He was aware of something at his lips, and then cool, blessed water was slipping down his parched throat.

“Move away from the test subject, Stark.”

“I need to check if he’s ok - if the formula worked.”

_BANG_.

Just when Sam thought the pain had passed, a new sensation exploded in his chest, following by a fresh surge of intense heat. Sam braced himself, only to find that the pain vanished as quickly as it had come. He glanced down at himself to see a glowing hole in his chest, the skin knitting itself back together, ejecting the bullet that had been fired into his heart.

“Remarkable,” Anders said as she came closer to inspect him, only for Sam’s view to be blocked as Tony stood in front of him, placing himself between Sam and Anders.

“Are you crazy? The formula has barely settled.”

“Move, or I’ll make you.”

Tony’s hands found Sam’s chest with all the appearances of a protective stance, and Sam was second away from telling Tony not be an idiot and move when he felt the harness around his torso loosen, just a fraction. As subtly as he could, he tested it and, sure enough, it was unlocked. That didn’t get him out of the wrist or ankle restraints, but it was a start.

“Did it work or not, Stark?"

Tony hesitated, then decided on, “Yeah. It worked.”

“Good,” Anders said, nodding her approval. “So I guess we have no more use for you.”

Tony was moving before she had finished her sentence, throwing himself behind Sam instead. Sam winced as he felt the bullet meant for Tony strike his chest, but again his body just ejected it, the strange molten lava his muscles had become healing at a rapid rate. “Hey, Stark? I want you to know that I hate this plan.”

“Take it up with HR.” Tony’s hands were sliding over his, deftly undoing the straps that held Sam down before he moved onto his ankles. The four armed Empire agents in the room were approaching them with guns raised and, while Sam may now be impervious to bullets, Tony certainly wasn’t.  The moment he was free Sam was in front of Tony, pushing him behind him as he looked from the armed agents to the door that they were blocking.

“Think hot,” Tony hissed in his ear.

“Think _what?”_

“Think hot, and breathe.”

“Your plan is for me to breathe on them?”

The agents were firing off more bullets as Sam backed Tony into the wall, taking the damage and, ok, he may be healing as quickly as they could shoot him, but it still hurt like hell.

“Just do it!”

Screw it. He’d trusted Tony this far. Sam took in a deep breath, locating that heat still locked away within him, and breathed.

He was not ready for the jet of flame that roared up his throat and out of his mouth.

The agents ducked, Tony using the distraction to grab Sam’s arm and pull him towards the lab door, cursing when he found it was locked.

“Tell me I did not just breathe fire!”

“You did, and now I need you to break down this door.”

Sam grabbed the handle and turned, feeling the lock snap beneath his fist. Rapid healing, fire-breathing, _and_ super-strength? “I thought this was a formula for accelerated healing!”

“Well, it’s not _not_ that.” Tony was suddenly behind him, spinning him around and using him as a shield as more bullets rang out, which Sam didn’t exactly love, but he understood the logic, the survival tactic. “You wanna get that door?”

As soon as they were out of the lab, Sam slammed the door shut behind them and wrenched off the handle, locking the Empire agents inside. “Those four. Are they the only agents?”

“Nope.”

“There’s _more?”_

“Yep.”

“How many?”

”Um...”

_”You don’t know?”_

“I’ve been busy, ok? Cut me some slack.”

They were currently in a corridor, the lab behind them, the end of the hallway diverging into left and right. “Which way?”

“How should I know? They didn’t exactly give me the grand tour."

“I thought you had a plan!”

“This is the plan!” Tony gestured to Sam. “I made you into a fiery T1000. Now use it to fight our way out of here.” At Sam’s incredulous look, Tony added, “The alternative was either letting them torture us to death, or them ambushing whoever finally got off their asses to come rescue us. This seemed like the best option.”

There was a lot to unpack there, but Sam was spared from doing so as he heard footsteps behind him. He tried to think hot again, was summoning that heat from deep within himself, when Tony grabbed his arm. “Yeah, not a good idea. Don’t overdose on it.”

“Or _what,_ Stark?”

“The exploding route isn’t off the table just yet.”

Sam turned just as three more of the Empire swarmed into the corridor. He took them down with relative ease, the agents unwilling to get close enough to hit him once they saw his glowing skin, the bullets healing as quickly as they did damage.

He spun around when he heard a gun cock, but it was just Tony liberating an unconscious agent of her weapon. “You ok?” Tony asked.

Sam looked down at where his cracked, ember-like skin was knitting back together. “This is all kinds of messed up.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s reversible,” Tony offered. “We just got to get back to my lab and -”

“Incoming!”

They continued to fight their way through, hitting their first piece of fortune as they discovered the base was small, the number of agents limited. Soon they were incapacitated, disarmed, and locked away in various rooms without the base.

That luck ran out when they finally got outside, breathing fresh air for the first time in days (and in Tony’s case, weeks), and saw nothing but snow.

Tony slapped him on the shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Wilson.”

“It’s October.”

The bunker they had emerged from was an isolated, metal building in the middle of a rocky outcrop of snow-covered mountains. Sam noted that he didn’t feel the cold, that the heat coursing through him was more than enough to stave off the mountain air. Tony wasn’t so protected. He’d wrapped his arms around himself, teeth already chattering.

“Alright,” Tony decided. “I’m calling a ride.”

“Guess I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah, no can do, buddy.” Before Sam could answer, Tony swore under his breath and made to move back inside the bunker. “You know what? This is an indoor conversation.”

Even after they closed the door to the outside behind them, it was still freezing. Tony had located a radio, stamping snow off his shoes as he started to turn dials. 

“Who are you calling?”

“Rhodey, telling him to get his ass here already.”

“And who’s coming with him?”

Tony gave him an appraising look. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to try to arrest you, are you?”

Sam stood his ground. “Are you?”

Something like hurt showed on Tony’s face before he schooled his features. “No,” he said shortly. “But like it or not, you are coming with me.”

“That sounds a lot like arresting someone.”

“Do you want to be a fire-breathing killing machine forever? Actually, don’t bother answering that, because it’s not a choice. I buried Extremis for a reason, and I’m going to do it again.” The radio crackled to life, and soon Rhodey was on the other end, the static not disguising the relief the Colonel felt in hearing his best friend’s voice. “ _Tony?"_

“If you’ve been on vacation, Rhodes, I gotta say, your timing needs work.”

“You ever been to Tahiti? It’s a magical place. Going to need a much bigger reason to get off this beach than your ass getting kidnapped, _again.”_ Rhodey’s joking tone turned serious. “Jesus, Tones, it’s been over two weeks. Pepper’s out of her mind. Are you hurt?”

“Just dandy. You know me. You getting your ass out here or what?”

“Clingy,” Rhodey teased. “Let’s figure out your coordinates, I’ll have a rescue team out there ASAP.”

Sam had been edging towards the door, calculating. He could probably make a break for it, if cold no longer affected him.

“Yeah, Honey Bear, about that.” Tony glanced at Sam, eyes narrowing when he saw where Sam was headed. “I need you to come pick up someone first, take them back to the Compound, under the radar. Then send a rescue team for me and all the bad guys currently locked up and ready for jail.”

“You going to tell me who that someone is?”

“I’m going to need you to trust me on that.”

Sam heard a sigh over the radio then, “I always do. Except when you’re cooking.”

“The salmonella was _one time_. Right, coordinates.” Tony was still looking at Sam. “You going to help us figure those out or not?” When Sam still hesitated, Tony added, “I’m not _arresting_ you. We’re going back to my lab to reverse this, then you can be on your merry way, alright?”

Sam glanced towards the door. The idea of making his way through the snowy mountains alone wasn't exactly appealing. “You can reverse it? Extremis?”

“Can and will. As soon as we’re back at the Compound - no one but me and Rhodey will know you're there, alright? Besides, any other route would require far too much paperwork, and I really can't be bothered.”

“Like you wouldn't just have Pepper do it.” Sam shot the door one more look, and then gave in. "Let's get out of here."

With a guaranteed rescue finally on the way, Tony sank against the wall of the bunker, the last of his energy spent. It was colder out here than where they had been kept deeper in the bunker. Or at least, Sam assumed it was colder, from the way Tony was shivering. He couldn’t feel the difference.

Sam spoke first. “So reversing this. Is that, um, painful?”

Tony shook his head, then amended. “It’s no picnic, but you’ll live. Pepper did.” Tony clocked Sam’s surprised expression. “Certain parts of the Mandarin story were kept out of the press. Like Extremis. And like Killian using it on Pepper to get me to cooperate.” Tony settled back into the bunker wall, stuffing his hands in his armpits. “Didn’t want future bad guys to get ideas.”

Sam nodded as he made his way across the room, sliding down the wall next to Tony. “So you reversed it in Pepper.” 

“Took some trial and error but yeah, we got there.”  Sam held out his hands, examining them. Tony noticed. “You know I can’t let you keep it. Aside from the fact that an overdose could still turn you into a dynamite stick, I buried Extremis for a reason. It’s going back in the ground.”

“Yeah, no, I’m with you on that,” Sam assured him. “I’m good with the wings. Or, was, I guess. Bad fight down in Sicily, they got taken out. Luckily Wanda saw and caught me before I could be taken out with them.” He was still turning his hands over, picturing the lava-like substance running through the veins there. “There’s been times when I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “Being someone like Steve, or Wanda. You know, an _actual_ superhero. The thought is…tempting. Not that I want to keep it - I get why it needs to go.”

Tony broke the silence that followed. “You didn’t give in.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't exactly have a choice. You were standing next to me.”

“Yeah,” Tony said quietly. “I could see you losing the battle and I thought, what could make you keep fighting? And I reckoned that would be saving another person, even if that person was, well…” He gestured to himself with a grimace. “Makes you a real superhero in my books.”

Sam took that in, then leaned in to examine Tony.

“What the hell, Wilson?”

“Checking for head injuries. You did hit your head, right? I'm going to assume you hit your head.”

Tony huffed, shoving Sam away, only to quickly wrap his arms around his chest again with a particularly pronounced shiver. “You should call your guys,” he said. "They probably want to know you're not dead.” He nodded to the radio. “Can you use that?”

Sam shook his head. “We didn’t exactly make ourselves easy to contact.”

“Ok. We’ll sort that out at the Compound. Rhodey will get you back there, get you prepped for removing Extremis. It’s not a long process, at least.”

“Probably for the best,” Sam agreed. “I definitely don’t need any Secret Empires tracking me down for my blood or…do I even still have blood? Or is just lava running around in there now?”

“You have blood. And it’s not _lava.”_

“Looks like lava. Feels like lava.”

“That doesn’t make it…That’s not how science works, Wilson.”

“Yeah, I’ll leave that up to the nerd Avengers, don’t worry.”

Tony glared at him. “ _Excuse_ me?”

“Nothing wrong with being a nerd, Stark. Don’t worry, we’ll still let you sit at the cool kids' table with us. Sometimes.”

“You and Romanoff, maybe. Maximoff would be the artsy goth. Steve would be a hall monitor.”

“Hm, depends on the hall. Steve’s only up for following rules when he agrees with them.”

"Yeah, that's true." The joking tone faded from Tony’s voice. “That is an incredibly dangerous mindset.”

“But sometimes a necessary one.” When he saw Tony’s raised eyebrow, Sam added, “I have friends who look just like me who have been arrested, or worse, by those who make and uphold the rules. Sometimes they need to be followed, sure, and sometimes they need to be challenged."

The conversation died after that. When Sam next glanced at Tony, the man’s eyes were closed, his body rigid with tension. “Um,” Sam shifted uncomfortably, then took the plunge. “You know, lava blood or not, I’m like a furnace over here. And I don’t think you’ll defrost as pretty as Cap did.”

Sam expected more resistance, but instead Tony just sighed and signalled for Sam to go ahead. Sam slid sideways, closing the gap between them as he wrapped his arms around Tony, pulling him against him. “Jesus, Stark, you’re _freezing.”_

Tony nodded to the door. “Snow is cold.”

_“Snow is cold?_ Great job, Sherlock. I can see where that genius title comes from.”

A few more beats of silence passed before Tony said, “If you tell _anyone_ we cuddled -”

“Yeah, don’t worry. That secret can stay in this bunker along with that goddamn mask for good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! Anything you want to see happen before this story wraps up?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look. I finished a thing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you had an excellent day today. Like a really excellent day. Like the kind of day where you think back on it in ten years with a smile and think yes, that was an excellent day.

Sam stared at the burner phone in Tony’s hand. He knew it was the safest way to let Steve know that he was ok and that the faction of the Secret Empire they had been hunting had been taken care of. That didn’t make it any easier to use it.

Tony noticed his hesitation. “You said Steve was too far off the radar to contact any other way. So just call him before he causes another international incident looking for you.”

Rhodey had whisked Sam away from the Secret Empire base before the military had shown up to liberate Tony and arrest the surviving Empire Agents, including Anders. Sam had been reluctant to leave Tony alone in the freezing base, but Tony had waved him off, pointing out that the sooner Sam let Rhodey take him out of there, the sooner the official reinforcements could come to pick up Tony. The billionaire was now sitting across from him in one of the Compound’s private hospital rooms, hooked up to monitors and IVs and doing an excellent impression of a living skeleton.

“He’s going to think it’s you,” Sam explained. “He’s been waiting for you to call for so long, I can’t just -”

“Then text him first! Give him a heads up that it’s his jogging buddy about to do the calling.”

Sam almost argued but, seeing Tony’s frail state, couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he sighed and took the phone, asking, “How long do I have to stay?”

“You don’t _have_ to stay at all, Wilson. No one but me, Rhodey and Temple even know you’re here, and none of us are running to Ross any time soon.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Tony blinked, then softened when he realised what Sam had really been asking. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “The Extremis reversal takes about twelve hours. Then three days recovery. That’s the minimum, but I’d rather get you out of this Compound sooner rather than later.”

“Agreed.”

“Not that…” Tony ran a hand through his hair, looking for the words. “I’m not, you know, kicking you out or anything. Just that Rhodey knows you’re here now, and I don’t want to compromise him more than I already have. Alright?”

“It’s fine, Tony. I don’t want to put Rhodey in that position either - or you.”

The Extremis reversal was not as nearly as painful as its initiation, but it did leave Sam drained and exhausted. He spent the next three days mostly asleep in the private hospital room with a nurse named Claire Temple, who Tony swore was on the level. Claire was firm but gentle, a almost constant fixture in the room since Tony had retreated, deeming Extremis fully removed from Sam’s system.

Sam didn’t blame Tony for his absence. When the former paratrooper managed to stay awake from more than twenty minutes, he switched on the TV mounted on the hospital room wall. It appeared that every news station was tuned into Iron Man’s mysterious disappearance and return, which they were passing off as a UN-sanctioned deep-cover mission, no details of which were to be given to the public. Tony often appeared with Pepper at his side, who took as many questions as he did. From the way they touched each other - gentle and reassuring - it wasn’t hard to gather that they had mended whatever hole in their relationship that had previously occurred. Sam was happy for them, glad that, in a year of fractured relationships, this one had somehow rebuilt itself.

On the third day, when Sam woke finally feeling somewhat rested and noted a male hand on his arm instead of Claire’s, he looked up expecting to see an iconic goatee and sunglasses. Instead, he found the face of Colonel James Rhodes, who was looking down at him with concern.

“You’re not as a pretty as the nurse,” Sam mumbled, settling back into the pillows and closing his eyes against the bright lights, head throbbing.

“Speak for yourself, Wilson. You wish you had this handsome mug.” Then there was something cool at his lips, and Sam accepted the metal straw gratefully, sipping water. He nodded at Rhodey when he was done, the pain in his head clearing enough for him to open his eyes again.

Sam had barely spoken to Rhodey on their trip back to the Compound. It had felt extremely odd to have someone else fly him for once, and the speed at which Rhodey had flown hadn’t allowed for much conversation. When they had arrived at the Compound, taking a backdoor to avoid being seen by any of the staff, the conversation had turned medical as Rhodey passed Sam off to Claire before hastening away to deal with Tony’s return.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like I could do a Cap and sleep for seventy years,” Sam muttered, then caught himself. Rhodey’s face didn’t change at the mention of Steve, but Sam noted the tension in his shoulders. He hastily changed the subject. “How’s Tony?”

The tension melted somewhat. “Not as well as he’s pretending to be for the press. But getting better. No permanent damage or anything.”

The words drew Sam to Rhodey’s legs before he could stop himself. They were incased what looked like thick metal braces that wrapped around him from waist to ankle.

“Like them?” Rhodey tapped one of them, the metallic sound ringing through the hospital room. “I’m thinking of getting Tony to add some cupholders, when he’s not busy being kidnapped. Again.”

Sam managed a smile. “Just cupholders? Not, I don’t know, music speakers?”

“That’s not a terrible idea. Although knowing Tony he would make them so he could hack them remotely and play AC/DC at me at 3 am.”

“It’s 2016. No one says ‘hack’ anymore. According to Natasha, anyway.”

Sam could feel his eyes slipping closed, and resisted. Rhodey didn’t miss it though, settling back in his chair. Sam realised that this wasn’t just a social visit; that Rhodey had taken up watch while Claire was on break. Sam redoubled his efforts to stay awake. “How are you, then? Really,” Sam added, sensing the Colonel’s brush-off.

Rhodey considered his answer until Sam was sure he wasn’t going to give one. “I’m good,” he decided. “Ok, so this isn’t quite the set-up I’d ideally put myself in, and the Compound is a little emptier than I’d like it to be, and getting places takes a little longer than I’d like.” He tapped his braces again. “But I’m good. Now that Tony’s back and safe again, and Extremis is out of your system - I’m good. I’m not saying it couldn’t be better. But it could also be a whole lot worse.”

The words sounded honest, if a little practiced, as though Rhodey had told this to himself many times before. “And you?” Rhodey asked. “Are you good? With the exception of just being kidnapped and turned into a fire-breathing super-soldier knockoff.”

Sam huffed out a laugh, considering his answer. “Not the set-up I’d have chosen either,” he settled on. “I miss my apartment. I miss the Compound. I miss being able to go into a cafe and order a sandwich without fear of being sent back to an underwater prison.” He paused before he concluded, “But if I did it over, I wouldn’t have done much differently. So I guess I’m good too.”

Rhodey nodded, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t have done much differently either.” His tone made it clear that that was all that needed to be said on the subject. “Circumstances aside, it’s nice to see you, Sam.”

“You too, Rhodey. I miss having someone make me look good on the field. You know, comparatively.”

“Oh, so it’s like that?”

“Yeah, it’s like that.”

Rhodey’s tone turned serious again. “I never got the chance to say thank you.”

Sam blinked at him. “For what?”

“For trying to catch me. When I fell.” When Sam started to shrug it off, Rhodey stopped him. “You could have just left, flown off with Steve and Barnes. But you came back, even though you knew you’d be arrested for it.”

“You were a soldier who needed help. Didn’t matter what side you were on.”

“Still, I owe you one. Well, two now.”

“Two?”

“For helping Tony get out of there alive. And for helping him with more than that. He filled me in on the details.”

“Yeah, well. He helped me back.” Sam shifted in the bed. The headache had started to make itself known again. He reached for the water, and Rhodey passed him the cup. “Felt kind of weird,” he admitted. “Being on Stark’s- Tony’s side, for once.”

“And?”

Sam considered that. “Didn’t hate it. Doesn’t mean I’m signing any Accords though, even if they have been amended.”

“Yeah, I think Ross would arrest you on the spot even if you did change your mind. We’re working on that though.”

Sam mulled that over. “We could come home?”

“Do you want to?”

“If it was an option…I don’t really want to live life as a fugitive forever,” Sam admitted. “But it’s not all bad. We’re still doing good, where we can. And…” Sam glanced sideways, at the burner phone beside his bed. “We have each other.”

They were interrupted when Claire returned to tell Sam he would be fit enough to leave the next morning. While she would have preferred to keep him in observation for another couple of days, Sam had agreed with Tony (that had felt weird) that the sooner he was gone, the better. Even though he had assured Steve over the phone that he was fine and that Secret Empire, or at least Anders’s faction, was dealt with, Sam had heard the anxiety in his friend’s voice when he had told him it would be another few days until he could return to him. After everything that had happened with Barnes, Steve wouldn’t trust that Sam was truly safe and well until he could see him with his own two eyes.

Also, Sam had decided that Tony and Rhodey had risked enough by sheltering him for as long as they had. It was time for him to be on his way.

Rhodey showed him to the Compound’s roof, helping him up the last couple of flights of stairs. While Sam appeared physically fine, he still tired easily, although Claire had assured him that would pass with a couple more weeks of rest.

Rhodey gave Sam’s arm a reassuring squeeze as he guided him out onto the roof, and Sam stared at what was waiting for them.

“That’s not my ride, is it? Because I appreciate everything, I do - but once was enough.” 

Parked in the center of the roof was a War Machine suit. It looked like one of the originals,sleek and gray - what Sam pictured when he thought War Machine. Iron Patriot had never really caught on for him.

“Well, it’s no Audi E-Tron GT, but I thought it would do the trick.” The familiar voice wafted up the stairs as Tony emerged onto the roof.

“You seeing me off?” Sam asked, surprised. “Didn’t think you were sentimental, Stark.”

“I’m a lot of things, Goose, but that’s not one of them. I’m here to make sure you don’t mess up this shiny new gizmo I’ve put together to get you back to your band of merry men.”  


Sam’s head whipped back to the suit, not believing. “That’s not…for me, is it?”

“It’s Christmas in October, remember?”

Tony adjusted his sunglasses as he made his war over to the suit. “Come on, try it on and give us a twirl.”

Rhodey gave him a nod of encouragement. “It’s not what you think.”

“Ok…sure.” Still hesitant, Sam approached the suit, which opened for him. Tony gave him a hefty clap on the shoulder as Sam stepped inside, trying not to flinch when the suit closed around him with the distinctive whir of an arc reactor. “Is now a good time to tell you I’m claustrophobic?”

“It’s only to get you out of here unnoticed,” Tony explained. “No UFO sightings today, thanks, we’ve got the press breathing up our asses as it is. As soon as you’re off the radar, hit the chest piece.” There was a pause, then Tony added, impatient, “Or, yeah, do it now. You’ll see what it does.”

Tentative, Sam raised a gauntlet and pressed it against the arc reactor. At once, he had the sensation of ants crawling over his arms and bit back on a yelp, only to realise it was metal moving, melting away from his arms and legs and head and shifting into a familiar weight on his back.

The weight of two, large, glorious metal wings.

Sam couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he admitted, “Ok, that’s cool.”

“Nanotech,” Tony said, by way of explanation. “Been playing around with it, making some new toys.”

A beeping made them both look towards Rhodey, who had pulled out his phone with a grimace. 

“That’s his “Ross is calling” face,” Tony explained. “What does the man upstairs want now?”

“What doesn’t he want?” Rhodey grumbled, extending a hand to Sam, who shook it. “Keep fighting the good fight.”

“Yeah, you too man.”

Then Sam was left alone with Tony.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, indicating the wings.

“Well,” Tony shrugged. “You said your last ones went down, and I did force you through a nonconsensual and very painful body modification, so…” He trailed off, rubbing his chest where the arc reactor used to be.

“Hey, so, I know we never really saw eye-to-eye on stuff, but I just wanted to say…” Sam paused. “Can you take off the damn sunglasses? It’s not even bright out.”

Tony hesitated, then complied, if only to fix Sam with a _how dare you_ stare.

Sam ignored it and ploughed on. “Back in the bunker. You did what you had to do get us out. We would probably both still be strapped to those chairs with tubes down our throats if you hadn’t. So -”

“Don’t,” Tony interrupted. He moved as though to put the sunglasses back on, but stopped himself at the last second and tucked them into a pocket instead. “If you’re going to thank me or tell me it was the right thing to do, I don’t want to hear it. Don’t get me wrong - it was the necessary thing to do. And it panned out ok, and if you put me back in that cell I would have made all the same choices.” 

He grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “Pepper never spoke about it, but I saw it. Killian showed me, knew it would hurt me, because what he put her through was agony. And then I did the exact same thing to you because I didn’t see another way out.”

“Look, I didn’t love being turned into a human Charizard, but we’re both here. We’re both breathing.”

Tony’s next words were so quiet, that Sam barely heard them. “Doing what has to be done, to stave off something worse." 

“What?”

“Never mind.” Tony clapped Sam’s metal-covered shoulder. “Just take the wings, ok?”

Sam exhaled, feeling the perfect balance of the tech, even better (if he dared say so) than his previous set. “I mean, I was always taking the wings.”

“Yeah well, use them well.” Tony was quiet a beat longer, then added, “It’s something of a comfort. Knowing you guys are still fighting…wherever you are. We’re fighting back here too. Just in different ways.”

"We know." Sam reached into his pocket, pulling out the burner phone. “Don’t get me wrong, he was relieved I wasn’t dead and all. But I think he still hoped it was you.”

“I’m not calling him so he can feel better about himself.”

“That’s not why he wants you to call.”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted. “Yeah, I know that.”

“So you’re going to call?”

Tony didn’t give an answer, but he took the phone back, turning it over in his hands. “Alright Goose, time to buzz the tower.”

“Update your references, Stark.”

Tony gave Sam a salute that Sam couldn't quite tell was sarcastic or not as Sam reassembled the nanotech back into the faux War Machine suit and took off into into the skies, leaving the Compound far below him.

As soon as he was far enough away, he stretched his wings to the full, headed for the coordinates Steve had sent him. After days in a windowless bunker followed by being confined to a hospital bed, the flight was glorious, and Sam indulged in a large whoop as he looped through the air, headed back to old friends, and leaving some new ones behind - at least for now.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now I kind of want to do a Sam and Rhodey fic? I’ve never really thought about it before this fic but it would make sense for them to be friends, at least before the Accords. Something you lovely readers might like to see? Let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, writer's brain? I asked you for a one-shot. This is not a one-shot.
> 
> So hey, I have this film and screenwriting podcast? It's called "Kill the Cat" and once a month my co-host and I and break down one of our favourite movies or tv shows and look at why they work, including Harry Potter, The Princess Bride, Brooklyn Nine-Nine and, of course, the MCU.
> 
> You can check it out on [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ypaen3yM5Q&t=1s&ab_channel=KilltheCatPodcast), [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/show/5hCprc9UCBZP4srFrBXKT1?si=ZOqdhMlVQvqV2fG5PxuvOA), or anywhere you listen to podcasts. 
> 
> And hey. You're doing great.


End file.
